


Degausser

by TheThirdGreywaren (ShelbyDraven)



Series: Knights in Shining Cosplay [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Established Relationship, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Recreational Drug Use, Silver Shroud Quest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7108381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShelbyDraven/pseuds/TheThirdGreywaren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hancock was never one for the old comic books. A new gal with a penchant for pre-war costumes and a budding friendship with Kent Connolly just might be the thing to change his mind, however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Degausser

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this can be short and sweet five chapter story. Just enough to develop a little more character background before I get into the good stuff. It's not entirely edited, so let me know if you see any mistakes! If you leave a comment or kudos, I will love you forever...
> 
> Title, chapters, and mood based on Degausser by Brand New.

A good Mayor knew every single person in his town.

A  _ very good _ Mayor knew when one of his citizens was getting into something a little over their head with a newcomer Vaultie and the rusting synth she always travelled with.

Hancock wasn’t a  _ very _ good Mayor. He blamed the Jet for that, the whole time lag being the cause for how slow information caught up with him. These days Mentats were becoming less of an occasional hit and more of a side dish for the important meal of the day… and every one after that, including snacks.

Fahrenheit was right on everything, though. She was a smart woman and a damn good bodyguard, and Hancock wasn’t surprised in the slightest when she yanked his lazy ass out of bed to listen to the radio. She quickly resorted to carrying him over, slinging him over her shoulder with a string of mutters, and despite being barely 100 pounds soaking wet, Hancock was not a very easy person to carry. He was a flailer, not unlike a cat that disliked being off the ground.

Still, Fahr was determined, and when she plopped him down in front of the radio and tuned him to the Silver Shroud station, Hancock knew she deserved the raise he’d always mention. Not initially, though.

The first thing he said, in fact, was something along the lines of: “What the fuck am I listening to?”

Hancock was a little too high for this; the Jet lingering in his system made everything distorted and fuzzy. It was hard enough to concentrate on the grandeur speeches and simple sound effects of a Silver Shroud episode when sober. With Hancock being as plastered as he was, it was goddamn impossible.

Listening to the radio was actually something Hancock actively avoided when he was riding a Jet high. A rule started by the Shroud station, in fact, when the announcer’s cheerful voice turned monstrous from the slowness and startled Hancock into blasting his previous radio to pieces. With his favored shotgun. Several times.

Explaining that to Fahrenheit when she bursted into the room was something Hancock never wanted to repeat, especially considering what he went through to get this  _ new  _ radio. Plus she always made sure he popped a Mentat when taking Jet to avoid making drastic mistakes like that again to something more vital than a box of circutboards, wires, and speakers.

“I have to hide your fucking stashes,” Fahr sighed to herself. Despite being high, Hancock still caught that little personal note of hers, and made a silent mental one for himself to hide his stash before she could do it. He didn’t want a repeat of the time she hid all his Mentats, mostly because he knew Daisy wouldn’t be willing to help haul  _ another  _ dead brahim body out of the town square.

KL-E-0, on the other hand...

“Hey.” Something thick and firm collided with the back of his head, and Hancock only managed to catch his tricorn hat before it hit the ground. Something only achieved with the lingering metallic taste of Jet stuck to the sides of his mouth. He half turned with a scowl, and Fahrenheit smirked as she waved the rolled up burnt magazine in warning.

Hancock was wise enough not to dignify the action with a word, but he did note this instance as the reason why Fahr was being paid in chems and a small portion of caps instead of something more generous.

The last thing his bodyguard needed was more encouragement to whack him.

“If you actually plan on listening now,  _ brother _ ,” she gave him a sly smile with that, which he returned with narrowed eyes, “Kent Connolly found himself a superhero.”

“Connolly, eh?” Hancock only knew the man's name after running his tongue over his teeth, catching the remaining berry flavor of Mentats in his gums. Kent was a quieter resident in Goodneighbor, not as destructive as No-Nose or resourceful as Fred. Still, Hancock knew the introverted ghoul spent long hours in the Memory Den. Irma was protective of him, like all of the more vulnerable souls in town, whether it was long term or just passing through.

Connolly was more long term, though, since he moved in shortly after Hancock was inaugurated as Mayor. The guy even had a room at the Den, which was something Hancock found out when Kent approached him and asked for permission to start a radio channel. That made up the majority of what Hancock knew of him, at least.

Fahrenheit, on the other hand, was his eyes and ears on the streets for a reason.

“‘Superhero’? We talkin’ saving cats from trees kind of hero, or the kinda hero that speaks caps?” Hancock desperately wished it to be the former. Any higher deity, whether a god or angel or  _ whatever _ , must have known how the town could use a superhero that genuinely cared. Hell, the entire Commonwealth needed that type of hero. They were certainly in short supply.

“The type of hero that does shit like that.” Fahrenheit nodded to the low humming of the radio. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, or what was left of it, Hancock turned the volume dial up. Now that he had diverted his full attention to the channel, he realized that the little Silver Shroud episode ended, and Kent was now speaking live.

Hancock was pleasantly surprised and impressed at the confidence in Kent’s voice. The few conversations they shared had revealed that he was a socially awkward man, and to hear the excitement and pride in the ghoul’s voice made Hancock grin.

The magazine that collided with the back of his head reminded him to pay attention to the actual words.

“-  _ Kendra was spotted at the Third Rail. The same Kendra who bombed little Joe Shack and killed four innocent drifters. If you want to see the Silver Shroud in action, stay near Whitechapel Charlie. The Shroud is sure to interrogate him as to her whereabouts. _ ”

The broadcast scratched out, then another Silver Shroud episode began to play.

Hancock was quick to turn the volume dial as low as it could go. Then he was pacing, pulling out a half empty Mentats tin from his frock pocket and tucking one in between his lower gums and right cheek.

“Interrogation, huh?” Hancock mused. Fahrenheit was already checking the ammo of her sidearm of choice: a short barrel .44 pistol Hancock gave her for her birthday after her very first year of service to him, which she lovingly named Checkmate. Certainly a well-named weapon, as the bodies of troublesome crooks, raiders, super mutants, and local ‘wildlife’ could account to.

“Let’s go give this superhero a little look-see, yeah?”

Fahr grinned, teeth flashing, “Lead the way, boss.”


End file.
